


You Are The Solution

by ferretbaby



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, BFFs, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-27
Updated: 2012-04-11
Packaged: 2017-11-02 14:57:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/370242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ferretbaby/pseuds/ferretbaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>from kinkmeme, (Anonymous) wrote:<br/>Jackson hates being an omega (Scott keeps bragging about his beta-status, Derek keeps trying to get him to submit (which he'll *eventually* do) and Stiles seems to be the only one who isn't a total ass about it).</p><p>There are Alpha/Omega dynamics in this, but more towards the actual wolf pack positons than those of most kinks found around here. So we have semi-alpha!Stiles.</p><p>***EDIT*** Update: 6/1/12:Now Betaed!!! Goddess Debris K has deigned to bestow her magical beta-powers upon this fic!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There's some pre-slash Stiles/Derek, and maybe if you sqwint Danny/Jackson, Lydia/Jackson. This turned out way longer than I expected and still somehow I want to write more? 
> 
> Edit: Wonderful Debris K, has betaed this. It wouldn't be nearly half as good or readable without her hardwork, seriously, I look back and cringe at some of what I wrote. There are some changes, nothing too major I don't think, but I beleive what was changed was in the interest of the story and for the readers. It is now readable and flows a lot more easily. Many hugs for Debris!!!

Stiles pulled into the driveway with five boxes of steamy pepperoni and cheesy goodness in the passenger seat beside him, and noticed right away that something was wrong.

“The fuck is going on?” Stiles slammed the jeep door behind him, taking in the ridiculous scene before him and silently asking what higher power was punishing him for making him befriend a pack of immature werewolves.

Scott automatically released Jackson from his choke-hold, looking as guilty as a five year old for pushing his crush off the monkey bars. Lydia just huffed, sticking her nose up at him and scenting the wind in a way that wasn’tsuspicious _at all_.

Derek just sat on the porch where he had been watching the rest of the pack fighting and stared at Stiles blankly.

Jackson was the one that answered him, panting heavily and looking a little banged up, “These assholes think they can push me around.”

“There was no thinking about it,” Lydia said, hands going to her hips. Scott perked up and smirked at Jackson who was dusting his knees off.

“Right. Whatever,” Stiles glared. He was rather concerned that he was becoming the sole voice of reason lately. It was like becoming a werewolf just regressed people, they reverted back to their preschool days and started picking fights over silly things like who got to help the teacher or who got to walk out the door first.

“Jackson, can you help me with the food,” Stiles asked nicely, hoping to defuse whatever situation he had walked in on.

“Why should I take orders from you,” Jackson growled, hackles rising.

“Fine, I’ll do it myself–”

“Jackson, help him,” Derek cut in from across the yard. “You don’t eat if you don’t help.”

Jackson squawked, stomping his foot in anger. “How is that fair! The others don’t have to help and they get to eat.”

Derek eyeballed Jackson.

“Fine,” Jackson grumped, shuffling forward to help Stiles before the pile toppled out of his hands. Stiles gave him an exhausted smile, too tired to really snark at him. Jackson furrowed his brows and looked Stiles over, frowning and wrinkling his nose.

“What’s wrong with you? You smell awful.”

“Thanks,” Stiles rolled his eyes, kicking at Derek’s foot so he’d move over enough for them to get inside the house. Jackson followed, carrying four of the five pizza boxes. Derek moved aside, barking orders at the others to clean up or they wouldn’t eat.

“No, really, you smell different. Are you sick?”

Stiles set the one pizza down on the table before moving into the semi-decent kitchen to get plates, Jackson at his heels.

“No. I’m tired, I worked most of the day,” Stiles said, handing Jackson the paper-plates. Jackson took them with surprisingly little hassle, still staring at Stiles with his puppy-dog eyes.

“Seriously, I’m fine. You probably just smell my sweat, I’ve been in the yard all day and I’m rank.”

Jackson poked Stiles in the back of the neck, startling Stiles enough that he jumped in pain. “Ouch! That hurt.”

“You’re burnt.” Jackson stared. “Did you not wear sunscreen? That was dumb.”

“Thanks, captain obvious.” Stiles swatted his hands away when he tried poking Stiles in the arm. “Leave me alone and go put the plates on the table while I get everyone a drink. Mr. Growly thinks I’m his personal maid and gets grumpy when I don’t have his Dr. Pepper out and waiting for him in his gold challis at the head of the table before he gets in. He’s going to get mad at both of us for ruining his perfect routine.”

Jackson scowled, looking Stiles over once again before offering a small bitter smile before turning on his heels and walking out.

Stiles huffed.

“Werewolves. I should really buy a book on how to properly house train them.”

“I heard that!”

***

Stiles had his headphones on, hoping to minimize the noise as he stared at the computer screen, his hands down his pants and fisted around his cock. He bit his lips when the girl moaned, the really well-endowed guy thrusting into her ass from behind, when suddenly the headphones were yanked off Stiles' head.

“-iles. I’ve been calling – the fuck!?”

Stiles flailed, screaming out in horror as he was whirled around in his computer chair and found himself face to face with sharp teeth and shallow blue eyes on a pale ghostly figure illuminated by the screen behind him. He kicked out, nailing the werewolf in the thigh when he expected his foot just to pass through the apparition.

“Stiles!”

Amidst his panic Stiles had a sudden moment of clarity; he realized who was haunting his house this late at night.

“Jackson?”

Jackson rubbed his leg like he was still feeling the phantom pain even though they both knew that his new werewolf healing had taken care of the bruise two seconds after it had been delivered.

“You mind putting that away,” Jackson blushed, looking away and gesturing toward Stiles’ lap.

“Jesus fuck,” Stiles muttered, totally humiliated at being caught by Jackson, of all people, jacking off. His only saving grace was that Jackson looked just as embarrassed and therefore was less likely to go blabbing away about it.

“Warn a guy or something.” He tucked himself into his pants.

“What is going on in here?” Stiles' lights came on illuminating the room and revealing his sleep-cranky dad standing in the bedroom door.

“Uhh…” Jackson flubbed, looking even more startled.

“Homework!” Stiles squeaked.

The Sheriff squinting sleep-blurred eyes at them. “It’s the summer. Try again.”

“Secret rendezvous?”

His dad blinked heavily at them. “With Jackson Whittemore?” The Sheriff looked toward Jackson. “I thought you had better taste than that.”

“Uh…”

“Excuse me! You’re my dad, you’re supposed to take my side. No one’s supposed to be good enough for your little boy.” Stiles only felt mildly insulted, his dad was tired and didn’t know what he was talking about, obviously. Stiles was a catch; Jackson should only be so lucky to find someone even half as awesome as him.

“You kidding me? I’m foisting you off on the first person who takes you. No refunds and no takes-backsies.”

Jackson smothered a laugh, looking at Stiles' dad in a whole new light. Stiles got it, most teenagers had this impression that because his dad was a cop he was a hard-ass. He always had a warm feeling in his chest when people figured out just how awesome his dad was. Just remembering the look on Derek’s face when he’d been properly introduce to the Sheriff and apologized to instead of being cuffed and thrown in jail would always be one of the top five moments of Stiles’ teenage life so far. He had gotten the warm fuzzies when Derek had kind of stared after his dad with a look of awe.

He was rudely brought back to the present by hearing his name spoken.

“What are you doing over here so late? You do know that 1:35am is Stiles’ _me time,_ right?”

Stiles’ jaw dropped. “ _Dad!”_ he gasped, scandalized. His dad was never supposed to know that.

Jackson gave Stiles this look of total disappointment. “No, sir, but now that I know I’ll be sure to avoid it.”

“He’s usually done by 1:50. You’d be surprised at how unpredictably predictable my son is.”

“Oh my god, that doesn’t even make sense, just kill me now,” Stiles ran his hands down his face, blushing so hard he felt like his face was going to melt off. Then he remembered where one of his hands had just been and yanked his head back like he’d been burned. Just then a particularly loud moan was heard over the earphones, killing Stiles’ soul that last little bit.

“Right,” Stiles’ dad looked them both over, confirming that his son hadn’t been screaming because of some pervy molester or kidnapping murderer and that it was only boys playing pranks on each other. “You boys finish up whatever you need to talk about and you head home, Jackson. Use the front door this time, and drive straight home. It’s past curfew.”

“Yes, sir. I need only 10 minutes. Sorry to disturb you,” Jackson gave the Sheriff the same smile that had the evil school cafeteria lady, Marge, cooing at him like he was some lost little lamb that needed cuddling. It was frankly disturbing for Stiles to see it aimed at his dad.

“Right.” The sheriff gave Jackson a constipated look, probably confused by the fact that a teenager was being respectful. “'Night, boys.” With one last baffled look at the teens he shuffled off, tugging his baggy sleep pants higher up his hips and heading down the hall.

“Your dad’s alright,” Jackson turned to Stiles, looking mildly impressed.

“Of course he is,” Stiles hissed. “Now tell me what you need to tell me so I can go smother myself with my pillow.”

Jackson rolled his eyes like he thought that Stiles was being overly dramatic. “Whatever. I could care less if you wanted to watch anal porn, I just wanted to talk to you about Scott.”

Stiles sputtered.

Jackson frowned. “Did I just use anal porn and Scott in the same sentence?”

“I was not watching anal porn!”

Jackson raised an eyebrow, leaning sideways to look over Stiles shoulder at the screen. “Right.”

Stiles whirled around and quickly turned the screen off. He took a large breath, calming himself before he turned back around to face Jackson.

“Okay. So,” Stiles let out a large breath. “Scott. What did he do now that somehow makes you think I’m his keeper and therefore means I have to discipline him like the slobbery puppy he is? Did he chew on your leather loafers?”

Jackson squirmed. “No. I was just wondering if you could ask him to lay off.”

Stiles blinked in confusion. “Lay off what?”

It looked like it physically hurt Jackson to say any more After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence he finally mumbled, “…Trying to make me submit.”

Stiles backed up with his hands in the air as if he were confronted with a physical thing which he wasn’t going to touch with a ten foot long pole. There had already been more sexual innuendos thrown around tonight than he was really comfortable with.

Jackson groaned. “It's werewolf stuff. I’m not into that, and frankly, if I was, I’m rather insulted you’d think Scott is good enough for me.”

“O-kay.” Stiles knew his eyes were bugged out. “Maybe you should explain this to me a little more?”

Taking a seat on Stiles’ bed, Jackson seemed to curl up on himself.

“It’s just… I’m the omega of the pack. And I know I’m expected to submit to Derek because he’s alpha and all, but I wasn’t really expecting to have to submit to the betas. They expect me to submit to them first before I can to Derek, and I don’t want to. Submit, that is, especially not to Scott and Lydia.”

Stiles took a moment to really look the poor guy over. Jackson was pasty pale, skin sunk in and dark rings under his eyes; the guy looked like he hadn’t eaten decently in weeks. He must really be at a dead end if he was coming to Stiles for help.

Stiles took everything to do with his werewolves seriously. “Okay, so this has to deal with wolf hierarchy. Derek’s the alpha, Lydia and Scott are the betas, and you’re the omega. Since you’re low man on the totem pole you’re expected to submit to everyone else in the pack, am I right?”

“About right.” Jackson still wouldn’t look at Stiles.

“Look, if you’re having problems with the betas why don’t you go to Derek about this? He’s alpha, he’s supposed to help you.”

“I tried, but he always just blows me off and tells me to learn my place,” Jackson growled in frustration.

“Oh no, he didn’t!” Stiles felt insulted on Jackson's behalf. He was going to send Derek some stern texts about being a bully to Jackson. (There was some irony here, Stiles defending _Jackson_ of all people from bullies but Stiles didn’t have time to dwell on that point now).

“He did,” Jackson nodded, finally looking at Stiles now that he felt he had him on his side. “Like, I get that I’m the omega, so they expect me to submit, but I’m really not comfortable with that.”

“No, I don’t blame you. It’s like people expecting a chick to get married and pop out babies instead of getting an education. Like, who cares if she has dreams of being a corporate lawyer and taking down the bad guys, having wild sex with strange men and not becoming emotionally involved with them, only to find out that the man from the bar is really her lawyer rival, but she still wins the case anyways because her proof was solid and the rival had thought that having sex with her would throw her off her game.”

“Uh, no, Stiles, this isn’t like that at all.”

Stiles ignored him; he was on a roll. “Don’t worry, Jackson, I’m in your corner. I’ll talk to Scott, and Derek. Maybe send an email to Lydia because, frankly, she gets this beady look in her eyes when I try to order her around, but I’ll get this taken care of. I’ll do some research as well. Find out if there’s some way to make you not the omega anymore. Leave this to me, I got your back.”

Stiles put a hand on Jackson's shoulder while the other teen just sort of gaped at him. Stiles got it, Jackson had probably never had someone like Stiles on his side before. It was a heartwarming moment.

A short time later Jackson was standing outside the others teen’s house, car keys in hand, and blinking in confusion.

“What just happened here?”

 ***

“No,” Stiles slapped Derek’s hand away.

Derek gaped at him. Stiles just sniffed and gave the piece of cake to Jackson instead. “Dig in, J.”

Everyone else at the table just stared.

“Did you just give the first piece of _my_ birthday cake that was made specifically for _me_ to the om–  Jackson?!” Derek quickly corrected himself, remembering that not all the people at the picnic table were in the know about the whole werewolf thing, namely Danny and one of Lydia’s girl-friends.

“So what if I did, what are you going to do about it?” Stiles put his hands on his hips, glaring down at Derek, and then at Jackson when he didn’t start eating. “Eat,” he ordered.

“Uh, but it’s a corner piece. Derek likes corner pieces.” Jackson’s cheeks were pink from all the attention.

“Well, there are three other corners, he can spare one.”

“Stiles,” Derek growled, sounding like he was struggling with the urge to tear him in half. His saving grace was the fact that Derek would probably, probably – meaning there was no guarantee – feel guilty about it later. Not too much, Stiles just didn’t think Derek’d be able to handle the look of disappointment from the sheriff when he told him he’d murdered his son because of a piece of cake.

“Yes, dear?” Stiles gave Derek a sickly smile. The knife Stiles’d used to cut the chocolate cake shone in the sun where it still rested in his hand. Beside him, Scott gave a loud gulp.

“…Give everyone a piece before we start in,” Derek said, magnanimously. He still snuck a glare at Jackson when the other teen licked icing off his fork.

Stiles didn’t look completely happy about the order but did as he was told. Danny raised an inquiring eyebrow at Stiles and shot a look toward Derek and Jackson. Stiles rolled his eyes in reply. Danny shrugged. He seemed to get it even though he didn’t know about the whole werewolf thing, which was frankly amazing. Maybe he just knew Jackson that well, Stiles mused.

Lydia’s friend Ashley gave him a strange look. “I didn’t know you were dating Jackson, Stiles?”

Lydia and Allison choked on their drinks at the same time. There was a clatter of dropped silverware at the front of the table but Stiles was too distracted to see by whom.

“Excuse me?” Derek growled.

“Uh, I think you misunderstood something here,” Stiles knew he was giving Ashley a panicked look but he found it frankly disturbing that anyone would mistake him and Jackson for a couple. He hadn’t thought he’d been coddling Jackson that much.

“Oh, you’re not dating him?”

Lydia wiped her mouth with her napkin. “Please, as if. I’m disturbed you’d ever think that. Though really I can’t blame you, once someone dates me they can only go down, but Stiles is a little bit too far down.”

“Hey, be nice,” Stiles chastised, used by now to Lydia’s attitude.

Derek muttered something that only the werewolves could hear who all turned to look at him. Lydia hunched over for a second, nodding before straightening up again.

“Sorry. It’s that time of the month so I’m just being bitchy.”

Allison and Ashley looked sympathetic while Stiles backed away as if she were a ticking time bomb. The other guys looked equally uncomfortable.

“Apology accepted. No hard feelings, really.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to make things awkward. This is a really nice cake, is it homemade?” Ashley flushed. She was pretty, Stiles thought, in that superficial way that too much make up made a girl her age look older. Stiles was frankly surprised at how nice she’d been so far, and how she hadn’t once asked if Derek was dating anyone. Most of Lydia’s friends, single or otherwise, asked Derek that when they met him. The only one of Lydia’s friends who had asked Stiles that had been Becky and she had been so drunk she’d thrown up on his shoes.

“It’s store bought,” Stiles said, giving Allison a piece. “And don’t worry about embarrassing anyone, we’re a tough crowd. Jackson and I have just discovered our bro-ship 'cause the guy obviously needs someone in his corner, so the others are jealous that he gets my attention.”

Danny nodded in understanding.

Jackson scowled but didn’t deny it.

“What about our bro-ship?” Scott looked betrayed, giving Stiles a ridiculous puppy-dog look that wasn’t half as effective as Jackson’s.

“That ship has sunk, I’m afraid. You’re on your own,” Stiles joked.

“All the romance is gone out of our relationship,” Scott gave a dramatic sigh and wilted into Allison’s lap. “He never answers my calls, he stays late at the office, says he’s 'meeting clients’, he even forgot our anniversary. I get dressed up in my nicest dresses and he doesn’t even notice anymore. What’s a girl to do?”

“Ugh, I think I just threw up a little bit in my mouth,” Jackson muttered.

“Whatever, Jackson, I know you get all hot and bothered at the idea of me in a dress,” Scott said, smirking him and winking.

“No. Not really, at all.”

Stiles laughed along with everyone, handing out the last of the cake. He made sure Derek got the largest piece, a corner one, too. Derek patted the empty spot beside him on the bench. Stiles gave him a smile before taking the seat and turning back to the conversation.

***

Stiles gave Scott a karate chop to the neck.

“Fuck!  That hurt.”

Scott released Jackson and Jackson skittered away, rubbing his neck and looking frightened.

“What did we talk about?” Stiles got up in Scott’s face. “Did I not say back the fuck off Jackson?”

“You don’t get it,” Scott looked chastised but not sorry, like he was only upset that he’d been caught. Which was such a Scott reaction that Stiles took a step back.

“Don’t get what? That Jackson doesn’t want to submit but you keep trying to make him. That you are practically assaulting our friend because of some stupid wolf hierarchy shit.”

“That’s just it! It’s werewolf stuff, you wouldn’t understand!” Scott threw his hands in the air, looking at Jackson like he expected him to back him up. Stiles wasn’t all that surprised when Jackson took a small step to put Stiles between them.

“Oh right, like how I didn’t understand any of that werewolf stuff that was happening to you a few months ago, but somehow I knew more about it than you, an actual werewolf. But did you listen to me? No… You didn’t listen and we all remember what a big mess that was, don’t we.”

Scott winced.

“But Derek said–”

“I could care less about what Derek said. You are a human who is occasionally a wolf, not a wolf who’s occasionally a human. Act like a decent human being, Scott.”

Stiles was panting, fury and indignation rising up in him. He’d talked to Scott the day after Jackson had visited and had gotten a promise from his best friend that he would ease up. That Scott would wait for Jackson to submit on his own and not force it. Had asked Scott how he would feel if someone tried to make Allison submit to them when she was obviously uncomfortable and didn’t want to. He had thought his friend understood.

Now Stiles just felt really disappointed in Scott.

“I can’t believe you would do this,” Stiles looked at Scott sadly and Scott, shamefaced, looked away.

Stiles turned around, grabbing Jackson by the arm and pulling him away. “Come on.”

Jackson came willingly, head down and arm lax.

“I’m sorry,” Jackson muttered when they were far enough away.

“What for?” Stiles looked bewildered; Jackson hadn’t done anything to Stiles to be sorry for. At least not this week.

“Fighting. I provoked him.”

“No, you didn’t. Even if you did, Scott should have known better,” Stiles urged Jackson into his jeep. He’d text Derek and explain why they left early so he wouldn’t yell at them later.

***

It was a Thursday when Stiles came to the realization that him and Jackson had been hanging out a lot more than usual. At home, at Derek’s, even just regular hanging around and shooting the shit with some of the other guys from the lacrosse team. Stiles could usually look over and find Jackson right there next to him.

Danny’d been shooting Stiles some seriously betrayed looks.

It was after a little team get-together at Danny’s, when Scott had already left with Allison on a date, that Stiles was cornered by three of his teammates outside the house as he was getting ready to leave.

“Look, we don’t know what you have on Jackson but we don’t appreciate what you’ve been doing,” Mike said, leaning into Stiles’ face. It wasn't nearly half as intimidating as Derek’s lean-ins so Stiles wasn’t really worried.

“And what exactly do you think I have on Jackson,” Stiles inquired, raising an eyebrow in mock confusion.

The teens looked at each other in aggressive puzzlement.

“We don’t know, but we’ll find out.”

Stiles really didn’t want any classmates following him or Jackson around trying to figure out their secret. Derek would kill them.

“Right. Okay, let me explain this because I think you’re confused,” Stiles put his hands on his hips and barely resist wagging a finger at the three teammates. “Jackson’s my friend. Albeit a very socially awkward and somewhat temperamental friend, so some days I feel like I’m really just raising the brattiest child in existence, but it’s cool. It’s all cool. There is no blackmail, or threats,” Stiles kind of boggled at that idea, “or anything untoward going on. Jackson’s virtue is perfectly protected with me around.”

“Oh.”

Three pairs of eyes blinked back at him in confusion.

“So… he’s just hanging out with you…?”

“Voluntarily.” Stiles rolled his eyes at them. “I’d even go so far as to say he willingly seeks me out just to keep himself from becoming bored and to make fun of my hair, or something.”

The three teens shared another strange look before huddling close to whisper in each other's ears like a bunch of 12-year-old girls. Finally they seemed to make a decision and turned to glower down at Stiles.

“You do have funny hair. We’ll concede that you might not be up to anything untoward.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“But!” The bulkiest one got all up in Stiles’ face. “If we think for even one second you’re going to hurt–”

“What’s going on here?”

Jackson was suddenly beside Stiles, one hand on the big dude’s chest pushing him back, the other hand curling around Stiles’ bicep and dragging him behind himself.

The cold anger in Jackson’s voice was kind of surprising.

“Are you guys messing with Stiles?”

There’s a little growl at the end of it that made the hairs on the back of Stiles’ neck stand up. A very human reaction to a wild predator and yet, strangely, Stiles didn’t feel like he was the one in danger.

The three teens fell over themselves trying to answer Jackson, sweating and fumbling over their words.

“No! No. We were just asking him some questions.”

“Yeah, no harm done.”

“Of course not!”

Jackson eyed them. Stiles gave a puzzled look around him, wondering if he was dreaming, and accidentally caught Danny’s eye. The brunette was standing inside the doorway, brows furrowed and staring at Jackson’s hand. A hand that suddenly had claws.

Stiles squeaked.

Jackson turned around and looked at him so Stiles used the distraction to pull him away.

“Oh, look at the time! We have to go to Der – er – Denny’s! Wow, I’m hungry. Are you hungry, J? I could go for a breakfast special right now, and maybe some chocolate chip pancakes, how about you?”

“Wait… what? Stiles, what’s going on?” Jackson followed after Stiles because he had no choice, Stiles had a hold of his wrist and was dragging him towards the jeep, werewolf strength be damned.

Stiles gave him the stink-eye.

“I’ll explain later.”

***

“You know, Scott sent me an apology text.”

Stiles looked up from his hash browns as Jackson shoveled eggs into his mouth, looking like he hadn’t been fed in weeks.

“He did? Well, good.” Stiles wiped his face with a napkin, glancing at his phone. He’d asked Derek to meet them here twenty minutes ago and hadn’t heard anything since.

Jackson continued on, oblivious to the intervention that Stiles had planned.

“Yeah, even Lydia’s backed off. Last Tuesday we went to the rental store and she even allowed me to pick the movie. Do you know how many times I’ve seen ‘The Notebook’?” Jackson said.

 “Uh…a lot?”

“Exactly. I rented 'Captain America'. She actually said it wasn’t that bad, so now I get movie picking privileges every other week.”

Stiles thought about that. “You know she probably just thought the actor was hot.”

Jackson frowned but Stiles’ attention was pulled away when Derek finally arrived. Waving his hands like a loon, Stiles got Derek’s attention and about half the diner’s, as well.

“What’s he doing here?” Jackson’s eyes were huge; a bit of egg yolk dribbled down his chin, unnoticed.

“Now, don’t be mad,” Stiles tried to placate him. Thankfully Derek slid in next to him and boxed Jackson in.

“What’s up,” Derek said, leaning over the table and stealing a slice of Stiles’ grape jelly slathered toast. “I heard there was an incident.”

“Nothing besides Stiles’ being cornered by a couple of juniors. I handled it, though,” Jackson answered, looking confused and prickly.

“What?” Derek looked at Stiles and Stiles barely resisted rolling his eyes as Derek checked him over, looking for injuries. Just because he was human didn’t mean Stiles couldn’t take care of himself. Really.

“Not why I called. They just wanted to make sure I was treating their team princess right. The problem in question was your reaction to the non-threat, Jackson.”

Jackson scowled. “Me?”

“Yes, you,” Stiles pointed at him with his fork. “You started to wolf out and I think Danny’s catching on that something’s not right.”

That news startled both Derek and Jackson. Jackson looked like he was trying to remember the scene and if he’d done anything that might have given him away.

Derek leaned toward Stiles, “You think he might know?”

Stiles shrugged. “Danny’s not dumb. He’s noticed a change in Jackson’s attitude so he’s perceptive enough to see that part of it's physical. I swear he saw Jackson grow claws.”

Jackson looked like he was on the verge of a freak out.

“What are you going to do to him if he finds out,” he asked Derek, looking scared. Stiles felt a mixture of sympathy and jealousy, remembering his own time where his place in the pack wasn’t decided because he was human, and therefore a liability. Some days he wished Scott would have been even half as worried for him as Jackson was for Danny.

“We should tell him,” Stiles blurted out.

The look Derek sent him was positively venomous.

“Really?” Jackson perked up, looking between Stiles and Derek with a growing sense of hope.

Stiles turned to Derek to explain. “He’s already suspicious, and it’s making the other teammates suspicious. They threatened to watch me and Jackson, and we run the risk of revealing ourselves to someone we don’t trust if that happens. Telling Danny will stop that. They trust him, we trust Danny. This way we have one more barrier between us and everybody else.”

“Yeah, but what if we _can’t_ trust him. I’ve never really been around the guy long enough to get a good judge of his character.”

Jackson took offense to that, “Danny is trustworthy. He’s the best guy there is. He’d hurt himself before he let anything happen to us. Even you.”

Derek grunted, still staring at Stiles as if it were his call.

Stiles licked his lips, mouth feeling dry. “I… I believe we can trust him. Danny’s not the type to turn on Jackson, or us, if we reveal ourselves. It might even do us some good to have another classmate and human in the pack for when school starts up again,” he smiled at Derek.

Derek looked away, taking a drink of Jackson’s orange juice. “I’ll think about it.”

Jackson beamed at Stiles.

***

Danny was looking at Derek like he was meeting a half naked Ryan Gosling and not an actual werewolf. He seemed less impressed with Scott or Jackson being werewolves, but Derek…

“I thought your name was Miguel?”

Stiles snickered and Derek glared.

Danny tore his eyes away from Derek and looked at Stiles with awe. “I don’t get it, aren’t you related?”

“Okay, let the humans talk for a minute,” Stiles put an arm around Danny and pulled him aside. He didn’t doubt for a second that Derek was not going to use his freaky werewolf hearing to listen in on their conversation, but Stiles had gotten used to the breach in privacy.

“You’re human?!”

“Of course I am, what did you think I was?”

Danny looked blankly back. “Uh…”

Stiles narrowed his eyes at Danny, Derek smothering a smile behind his hand.

***

For the last month of summer things seemed to calm down a hell of a lot once Danny joined the pack. Jackson was happy to show off his new superpowers, Scott was happy to have someone to complain to besides Stiles about Jackson, and Lydia was happy to have someone with a little common sense in their pack.

Derek was just Derek. No change there. Stiles seriously wondered if Derek had been happy even once since he had been expelled from his mother’s womb.

Stiles couldn’t help but feel like a major weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He hadn’t known what a burden it was being the only human in the pack until Danny joined. While he would never in a million years regret his choice to be part of the pack, there were some things that being normal just wasn’t cut out for like a werewolf was. Danny seemed to quickly understand that just as keenly as Stiles did, if the sympathetic looks he received at pack meetings were any indication.

He also had someone to sit around on the porch with and bitch to while they waited for the werewolves to finish hunting innocent bunny rabbits in some kind of morbid game of chase. It got ridiculous when Jackson actually caught a rabbit for the first time and dropped the bloody carcass at Danny’s feet like it was some kind of prize. There were jokes galore after that incident and Stiles had never seen Danny blush so hard in his life.

So imagine Stiles’ surprise when in the middle of the night his bedroom window was ripped open and three half-feral werewolves were shoved into his room.

“Stay here,” Derek’s eyes were glowing red, his side burns overgrown and his teeth elongated so far he had a small lisp. He stood just outside the window in his leather jacket and black jeans, the almost full moon illuminating him from behind like he was some kind of vengeful demon from hell. Stiles sat straight up in bed and stared at him in horror.

“What’s going on?” Stiles ignored the snarling pile of fangs and claws on his floor and focused on Derek. It was then that he noticed the blood. “What happened?”

“I’ll explain later. Keep an eye on them for me, will you. Don’t let them leave your den.” With that Derek leapt from the roof, disappearing into the night.

Stiles pulled the bed covers over his shoulders and watched as Lydia extracted herself from the pile, features slowly melting back to human, leaving only her eyes glowing amber.

“Where, what? Stiles?” She shook her head, trying to get a hold of herself as her nostrils flared. Stiles stayed absolutely still in case the wolf wasn’t completely gone, sweat trickling down his back. He didn’t know what Derek was thinking leaving them with Stiles, a pack of confused killing machines do not good house guests make.

“H-hey,” Stiles gave her a jerky shrug, trying to play it casual, his hands clutching at his bed covers in white strained fists.

Lydia’s eyes still had a ring of gold around them. Shuffling forward on her knees she pressed her face into Stiles’ sheets, and consequently his lap. Stiles’ squeak drew Jackson’s attention; he stopped gnawing on Scott’s wrist to growl at them.

Stiles hesitantly patted Lydia’s head, keeping his focus on her while painfully aware that the others were watching him with suspicion.

“Is everything… okay?”

Lydia inhaled loudly against his thigh, one hand going under the covers to grasp his ankle, startling Stiles.

“Hunters.”

Stiles blinked in confusion. “Argent's?”

Scott snarled, taking a threatening step toward them. Thankfully Jackson was there, some sane rationalization bleeding through, and stopped him from attacking Stiles.

“No,” Lydia whined from the back of her throat. “Someone different. Danny was there. Hurt.”

Stiles didn’t notice until he stopped that he’d been petting her red hair, finger running through straggly strands and picking out twigs. “Danny was with the hunters. Who’s hurt?”

“Danny got hurt. Saved me.”

“Oh.” Stiles wondered why Danny had been out with the others and no one had told him about it. He felt a flash of disappointment before he quickly squashed it. “Is he okay? Is that where Derek went, to help Danny?”

Jackson crawled up onto the bed and nuzzled into Stiles’ side. “Yes. They tried to keep us from him because he was human. Stupid hunters.”

“He’s not hurt badly, is he?” Stiles didn’t know what it was about hunters in Beacon Hill but they tended to cause more problems than solve them.

“Not bad, there was blood, though.” Lydia answered, voice muffled against Stiles’ leg. “They made our pack-mate bleed. If Derek hadn’t been there I would’ve torn them apart.”

“Hey now, everything will be okay. He’s alpha, so Derek can handle it, he knows what he’s doing,” Stiles reassured them. If anyone knew how to handle hunters and people getting hurt, it was Derek. He’d done it, like, a million times by now.

Stiles wanted to ask more questions, figure out why they were out, why they were attacked, by whom, how, and so on. The implied threat that there were strangers out hunting them had him worried. The moon was almost full and that meant emotions were running high, and he had to protect his pack, incoherent as some of its members were at the moment.

“You think we’ll be safe here? Do I need to get my dad’s gun or something?”

Jackson looked around the room, he seemed to surprised to be there.

“No. I think we should be okay here. They didn’t follow us.”

“Good,” Stiles forced himself to relax. His main concerns were answered, the rest of his question could wait until Derek returned.

Stiles pulled on Lydia’s arm, nudging Jackson over so they could all lay down. In all his years dreaming of pulling Lydia down into his bed this wasn’t exactly the scenario that he had had in mind.

“Scott?” Stiles looked over at his best friend. Scott was still on high alert, his features all wolfed-out, but there was some sanity to his expression that hadn’t been there earlier.

“Keep watch for a while, but come lay down while you do,” Stiles pleaded, knowing how stubborn his friend was.

Scott took a seat at the edge of the bed right in front of the window. Lydia’s nose was cold where she nuzzled up under Stiles’ chin and was Jackson squeezing his ribs in some kind of octopus-hug; Stiles lay back and pulled the covers over all three of them.

He stared at Scott’s back until the thunderous beat of someone's heart eventually lured him to sleep. It was only in those last few seconds before the darkness slipped over him that he thought the heartbeat might just have been his own.

***

Jackson was predictably a lazy cover-hog, wrapped up like a burrito with only a bit of blond hair sticking out at the end as he tried to burrows into Stiles’ kidney.

“This is kind of sweet,” Danny smirked at them, whipping out his phone and taking a picture. “Like some kind of puppy pile with Stiles’ as momma-dog.”

Derek smirked down at Stiles, his looming at an all-impressive high.

“Bwah?” Stiles wiped the drool off his chin. Something was putting a lot of pressure on his stomach. Looking down he got a view of black curly hair as Scott slept peacefully, half on and half off him. Stiles groaned, head flopping back into the pillows.

“Did you just inadvertently call me a bitch? How’d you get inside?”

Derek looked them all over, looking extremely pleased with himself for some reason. “Walked in through the front door.”

“You actually know how to knock? Or did you bring Danny along for that?”

At Danny’s name, Jackson woke up, squirming like a caterpillar in its cocoon. The effects were nowhere near as pretty as a butterfly, though.

“Danny!” Not even halfway out of the covers, Jackson lunged. Stiles and Derek both jerked forward as if to catch him, jolting Scott and Lydia awake, but ended up watching in bemusement as Danny caught him instead. Laughing in delight, Danny helped untangle Jackson.

“You are utterly ridiculous, how did you survive the night without me,” Danny asked rhetorically, straightening Jackson's clothes and trying to tame the mass of blond hair sticking out every which way. 

Jackson's eyes were huge as he searched for injuries over Danny’s body until he saw the small bandage wrapped around Danny’s forearm. “Are you okay? Last I saw you were in a cage captured by some strange hunters.” He hesitantly touched the edge of the bandage.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m perfectly fine, now stop molesting me,” Danny slapped Jackson’s hands away.

While Lydia and Scott joined Jackson in fussing over Danny, poking their noses and hands into awkward places, Derek took a seat at the edge of the bed next to Stiles, the mattress dipping and causing Stiles to roll towards him.

“Is everything really okay?” Stiles sat up and lent over, breathing in the natural scent of musk and nature that hung around the alpha like the best cologne money could buy.

“Yeah,” Derek actually lent back towards Stiles, shoulders knocking together as he gave Stiles’ neck a small nip with his human teeth. Stiles was too stunned to react and the others too busy with Danny to notice. Pulling back, Derek’s eyes twinkled in amusement.

“Had to ask Argent for help, but it worked out. Just some rookie hunters that had no clue what they were doing. I saved Danny from them and left Chris to handle the rest.”

Stiles blinked. “I’m sure he appreciated that.”

“Yeah, well, he asked for it.”

“You’re such a horrible person,” Stiles laughed, still looking at Derek when Scott tumbled into his side, the two of them jostling each other around. Derek watched them indulgently, making room for Lydia to snuggle up next to him.

Jackson’s face appeared in front of Stiles. “Dude, are you going to cook us breakfast or what?”

***

Stiles lent back against his jeep, turkey sandwich in hand, and winced when he saw Scott take a hit that sent him through a tree.

“Ouch.”

Danny agreed, hissing in sympathy as Lydia gave a turbo kick to Jackson face.

“Fuck, that looks like it hurts.”

“You should have seen them a month ago.” Stiles took a bite out of his sandwich. “Jackson couldn’t hold his own to save his life, and I swear to god they were pulling each other’s hair and shouting about who Derek liked more. I was completely embarrassed to associate with any of them.”

The look Danny gave him was boggling. “Seriously? They look like pumped up UFC fighters now. What happened?”

 Stiles shrugged, “I dunno.” Though really he had an idea. Ever since that lunch at Denny’s with Derek and Jackson something had been different. The interaction between everyone had changed, Derek was more lenient towards the others, Jackson wasn’t pushed around so much, even Stiles himself felt like he was part of the pack more than he had been before, asked for his input more often. He didn’t really think of Jackson as the omega anymore, but then again it wasn’t important if he was. They were family now.

“Hey,” Derek said quietly, coming up with what looked like one of those ball machines used in tennis practice. “You guys want to help out?”

Stiles laughed in delight. “Seriously, are you asking us to play fetch with you guys?”

Derek smiled back, white teeth gleaming in the sun, and the shiver that went down Stiles’ spine was more from anticipation than fright. “Might be fun, and the others need to work on their reflexes.”  

“This is going to be awesome,” Danny hoped off the hood of Stiles' jeep, rubbing his hands together in glee. Stiles couldn’t help but agree, looking over his pack. It was going to be awesome, they were going to be awesome.

***

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackson is willfully oblivious and in painful denial as he investigates the mystery behind the easy friendship of Stiles and Derek.

***

Jackson stared in shock as he watched Derek sneak out of Stiles’ room in the middle of the day, shirt half way up his chest and a bright flush staining his cheeks.

“Seriously?” He muttered to himself, praying that Derek couldn’t hear him. The gods must have really loved him, or Derek was just too distracted to really be listening, because the alpha didn’t even turn in his direction. Jackson stood there frozen as Derek walked around to the back of the roof and hopped off, disappearing into the woods behind the house.

The Sheriff walked by the living room window and, spotting Jackson gaping outside on their front lawn, waved him inside.

“Hey, there, son, everything okay?”

“Uh…” Jackson fumbled a quick denial. “Nothing. No, fine. I’m good. Is Stiles in?” Maybe Stiles had been taking Derek’s blood pressure? That sounded reasonable.

His stuttering earned him an indulgent smile from the Sheriff and Jackson could feel himself blush, so he looked quickly away. There was something about Sheriff Stilinski that made Jackson want to just roll over and wag his tail. He just smelled so awesome. Like awesome was a cologne and the Sheriff bathed in it. He smelt like gun powder, cut grass, and French fries in bacon grease. It was manly and mouth watering and Jackson’s knees went weak every time he came over and caught a whiff of it.

“Yeah, he’s upstairs doing homework. Has your first week of school been half as busy as Stiles’?”

Jackson shrugged. He didn’t want to rat anyone out. He was only in half of Stiles’ classes this year so maybe he really did have a lot of homework? Only Lydia didn’t seem to be boggled down with work, but then again, she was Lydia.

The Sheriff pushed him towards the stairs, rolling his eyes and handing Jackson a plate full of hot pockets.

“Take these upstairs with you? Make sure Stiles shares.”

“Okay.” Jackson took the stairs one at a time, wondering what he might find when he got there, mind racing with all the possibilities. Should he make more noise so he didn’t catch Stiles in a freaky situation like last time? That had been really embarrassing.

With something like relief and a bit of nervous anxiety he walked into Stiles' room to find Stiles typing away at his computer, smiling nonchalantly when he caught sight of him with the plate of food. The only evidence that Derek had even been there was a lingering scent of him around the window.

“Dude! You’re awesome!”

“I know,” Jackson answered automatically, trying to discreetly sniff Stiles when he came towards him to grab a hot pocket.

Well, Stiles still smelled like Stiles, sweat stink and all.

“So what brings you over to la casa de Stilinski?” Stiles said through a mouthful of ham, cheese, and crust, getting crumbs all down his shirt and in his lap.

“Oh, yeah, I have a question about those hunters.” Jackson jumped into telling Stiles about their recent run in with the local werewolf hunter population and their discussion expanded from there.

***

Jackson sat down on a log in the middle of the woods and watched Allison try to teach Stiles how to shoot her crossbow. It was kind of ridiculous how some of them thought Stiles had the coordination to actually wield something dangerous and not somehow hurt himself or any of them, much less an enemy. Seriously, it was better for everyone to leave Stiles with research, it was what he was good at, and leave the real fighting to the 'wolves.

“What’s up with you?” Scott took a seat next to him, hand going up as if to grab Jackson’s neck before he caught himself and swiftly placed his hand under his butt, and tried to look casually indifferent to his mistake with a glance towards the human pair to see if they caught the movement.

“Hmm?” Jackson blinked at him, trying to keep focused on Stiles and listen at the same time.

“You’ve been watching Stiles like a hawk lately, did something happen?”

“Oh.” Jackson sighed. He didn’t know if he should tell Scott what he had seen, mostly because he’d feel like he was ratting someone out, but also because he didn’t know if what he had seen was really what he thought it was. Maybe his mind was just overreacting, seeing things that weren’t there? But still…

“Not much. Just… have you noticed a difference between Stiles and Derek, in how they interact?”

Scott scratched at his nose. “Kinda, I guess. I mean, there’s a lot less threats between them and Derek actually listens to Stiles now, actually, now that you mention it, that is kind of weird.”

Jackson felt awful, but also relieved. At least he now knew he wasn’t crazy. When he had tried to broach the subject with Danny he had only gotten a clueless look in return. Danny explained that as long as he’d know Derek (admittedly not that long) he’d always listened to Stiles, even about what clothes to wear (which was odd, but Jackson wasn’t going there).

Scott perked up. “You think Stiles has something on Derek? That's why he’s listening to him?”

Jackson rolled his eyes. There was a reason he picked on Scott all through middle school and most of high school. “No. It’s something else.” Did Scott think so little of either of their friends? As if Stiles would use anything against Derek as blackmail and, really, as if Derek would even put up with that kind of shit. No, something else was happening here, he just didn’t know what. Yet.

Scott grunted, wincing when the string of the bow snapped against Stiles’ forearm for the hundredth time making him cry out.

“Stiles hasn’t really seemed different, not that I can tell anyways. Mostly Derek,” Scott said after a while of watching Stiles flail and Allison try to placate him. “I figured he’d just kind of settled. Ya know, like, as alpha. He’s no longer hanging around in dark corners of people's bedrooms trying to scare the shit out of them, so it’s really been an improvement on his personality and I’m not complaining.”

“I guess.” Jackson knew he wasn’t going to get the answer he wanted from Scott. He didn’t even know what it was that had made him bring the subject up because he wouldn’t have been able to do anything even if there had been something happening.

No, this needed someone of a more… delicate disposition to talk to about.

***

Jackson didn’t get around to asking anyone else about the thing he’d noticed between Stiles and Derek mostly because he was distracted by the very _thing_ that had him distracted in the first place _._

He was shocked to get out of practice early and find the two hanging out at Derek’s apartment alone. Stiles and Derek sat on the floor in front of the brand new flat screen HD TV playing Mario Cart on Wii.

Derek was smiling. He also had really white teeth.

Jackson couldn’t help but stand there and watch them, looking between the screen and their faces, unable to comprehend what he was actually seeing.

“Are you the little mushroom, dude?”

Stiles chuckled, eyes never leaving the screen. “Nope, that’s Derek, I’m Luigi.”

Derek grunted in acknowledgment, unaware that his manliness was being called into question. Then again Derek was having trouble staying on the track and his little mushroom dude kept careening off the edges and dying. Derek would actually lean to the side with the controls like it would somehow improve his ability to make sharp turns. Stiles was totally kicking Derek’s ass and he knew it, except Stiles wasn’t crowing about it like Jackson would have expected.

Jackson felt so sorry for Derek he offered to help. “I can show you how to–”

“No.” Derek didn’t even look at him; by then even the game had started feeling sorry for him and was giving him the super bullet that took control of his character and sped him forward,  helping him keep up so Stiles didn't take another lap on him.

Stiles nudged Jackson with his foot. “He is actually pretty good.” Jackson would have disagreed with that but he didn’t want to die so he kept his mouth shut. “Super Mario Bros. was harder, he–we couldn’t even get past the first level.”

Jackson hadn’t played against Stiles but he would have bet all his werewolf superpowers that Stiles probably knew every cheat code, combo, and hidden walkthrough in the history of Wii gaming,so Jackson seriously doubted Stiles had a problem getting past level 1 of the game.

Stiles ended up in first place. He was reaching forward to grab a handful of Cheetos as he and Jackson watched Derek finally putter to the finish line. Derek looked triumphant.

“My time's improved. I’m at 16 points now.”

“That’s awesome!” Stiles smiled at Derek as if it were a real accomplishment. Jackson couldn’t help but wonder how long he had been playing with Derek to make that reaction genuine.

Derek finally noticed Jackson standing over him. “Sit down,” he ordered, pressing against the back of his knees until Jackson fell on his ass between the two of them. “I bought four controls, you can play with us.” He was already digging in the box for the third set while Stiles reset the game so they could add another player.

Jackson took a pretzel from one of the bags in front of Derek and was stunned when he didn’t get stabbed or mauled for it.

“Here,” Derek grunted. “I remember when this was out on Nintendo 64, my sister and I used to play it all the time and I used to kick her ass six ways to Sunday. She’d throw the controls at my head and threaten to tear the console apart if I didn’t let her win once in a while.”

Jackson was amazed that Derek was talking so casually about his past and was sort of charmed that Derek was letting him in on this moment. He hadn’t heard Derek mention anything about his past before and what little he knew he got from Scott and Stiles.

Stiles gave the two werewolves a sappy look. “Yeah, yeah, save your stories of the glory days for later, old man, we have to school Jackson here on why belittling Toad is a major mistake.” Stiles moved to knock shoulders with Jackson, making the omega fall against Derek; the alpha’s hand settled on Jackson’s neck as he steadied them both.

Jackson froze, expecting Derek to dominate him at the chance but Derek only ignored the reaction, even though it was the perfect opportunity to do it with a good enough excuse. Stiles watched them both warily for a second before shrugging, hands digging into the bags of chips laid out in front of them like a gamers’ feast. Derek gave a tight squeeze to Jackson's throat before letting go and patting him on the back.

Jackson relaxed.

“What sort of name is Toad for a mushroom man anyways, he’s not even a toad?” He said. This got Stiles’ going on a long-winded rant about toadstools and the complex history of Mario and his plumber buddies. Derek chimed in with weird anecdotes about the one time he ate a poisonous mushroom and got high off it. Jackson was gasping for air after laughing and ended up leaning into Stiles by the time they finally settled down to actually play a game.

Jackson lost on purpose the first couple of games, and by the look Stiles gave him afterward he knew why Jackson had done it.

***

Lydia growled at him when he tried to climb in through her window.

“Jackson, I’m seriously wondering if you lost all appearance of good manners when Derek bit you or if you’re just following bad examples. I am not Stiles and if you don’t want to be pushed out the window next time you’ll knock on the front door and come into the house like a normal human being.”

“Uh… okay?”

Waving him away, she turned back to her mirror and continued applying her makeup. This had always confused Jackson about girls, their incessant need to reapply their make-up, even if they were just driving down the road to pick up milk at the gas station. It was almost 9pm, hadn’t she applied her makeup that morning? Hadn't that been enough?

“Speaking of Stiles,” Jackson hedged, taking a seat on her bed. “Have you noticed anything different about him lately?”

Lydia didn’t even pause as she was putting on her mascara, eyebrows furrowed as she thought about it.

“Depends on what you’ve noticed,” she conceded after a minute.

Jackson tried not to fidget. In some ways her being a beta instead of him wasn’t as surprising as he had thought it would be. She had always been sort of a benevolent overlord toward him, and at least she still made out with him when she got bored and horny.

“Well, like last night at the pack meeting,” Jackson explained. “We’ve been taking orders from him just as much as we do from Derek, and Derek allows it.”

Lydia spun in her seat, red hair fanning out from one shoulder to the other. “Are you saying you don’t want Stiles giving orders? He goes a lot easier on you than Derek does.” She sounded incredulous, like she wanted to scoff at him but would wait to hear what his puny mortal self had to say to entertain her.

“No!” Jackson backtracked. “No. I mean, you don’t find it weird? I’m an omega so I’m used to following orders from everyone else by now. It’s just that you and Scott are betas and you listen to him like he’s an alpha.”

Sniffing, Lydia returned to applying her make-up. “Look, just because you haven’t figured it out doesn’t mean I’m going to point out the obvious.”

“What?” Jackson was bewildered by her reply, wondering what the hell she was talking about.

“It doesn’t matter if you’re an omega or a beta, is what I’m saying. Here’s a hint, be a wolf and just smell Stiles.”

“I still don’t understand.” He could smell Stiles just fine without wolfing out, probably better than he would recommend because Stiles was a teenager and the stink that hung in the air around him was completely overwhelming. It deeply depressed Jackson that Stiles didn’t smell like his dad did, but then again he wouldn’t have a good excuse to be smelling Stiles all the time if he did.

“Boys,” Lydia rolled her eyes at him in the mirror. “You will figure it out eventually and until then you can entertain me by chasing your tail trying to figure it out. Just watch out, Derek gets grouchy if he thinks you're poaching on his territory.”

Why did Lydia have to be so confusing? Why couldn’t she be more like Stiles and just give a straight answer for once?

“We hunt on Derek’s territory all the time. He’s okay with that, in fact, he encourages it. I just don’t see what that has to do with Stiles, am I not supposed to take him hunting or something?”

Lydia stood, hands smoothing out her skirt and adjusting her bra. Her tits looked great, but she kind of ruined it by putting a dab of floral-smelling glitter on both sides of her collarbone. She caught him looking and raised an eyebrow.

“You are an idiot. Also, word of mouth is that Stiles sucks at using a crossbow so yes, I suppose taking him hunting will lead to Derek getting pissed at you... unless Stiles accidentally kills you first.”

Jackson’s head hurt. This conversation wasn’t getting him the information he wanted.

Lydia gave him a pitying look.

Then, like a four by four to the back of the head, Jackson got it. How stupid could he be!

“Wait!” Jackson paused. “Stiles… and Derek. Together.”

Lydia raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to finish.

“Stiles and Derek, as in _together_ together.” Jackson thought back on Derek sneaking out of Stiles’ room, flushed and half naked. The way Derek conceded to Stiles' demands after only a little fuss. The way Stiles naturally gravitated towards the alpha if he was in the vicinity. How Stiles could steal Derek’s Cheetos and french fries without getting growled at, and how Derek could drive Stiles’ jeep without Stiles wailing like it was the end of the world. How they rotated around each other. When they were engrossed in something the two could communicate with their eyebrows alone. The friendly companionship between them and the silent compassion they had for each other’s losses.

Jackson’s mind automatically started rolling in the gutter like a wet dog. “Oh my god. Oh shit! Are they fucking?!”

The look Lydia shot him was measuring, like she was really wondering if pushing him out the window would be worth explaining it to her parents. “Seriously, you’re only now figuring this out? They’ve been quite obvious about it, I’ve been able to smell them on each other since I turned and it’s only gotten more… potent in the last few weeks.”

Pure horror slowly started creeping up Jackson’s spine. Had they been fucking before Jackson got there yesterday? Is that why Stiles stopped going to lacrosse practice, so he and Derek could have more sex uninterrupted by the rest of the pack or maybe because he was too sore? Had Jackson been cockblocking his alpha when he showed up at his apartment yesterday while they were playing video games?” (If so, Derek needed to work on his seduction technique; all that losing yesterday had only made Stiles coo at Derek and pet his hair like a puppy.)

Jackson backpedaled to something safer than the idea of Derek and Stiles having sex. “Well, Scott doesn’t know. He had no clue anybody was even acting different until I said something.” Scott was dumb; at least Jackson had known something was going on.

“This is Scott we’re talking about, here.”

Jackson nodded, his mind retracing its steps like a broken record, going back and stumbling over this whole Derek and Stiles thing. Didn’t Stiles have better taste than someone like Derek? A grumpy, grouchy, threatening to tear limbs off alpha werewolf and a spazzy, talk your ear off, breakable human. How… odd. They were literally the odd couple.

“So, wait, what does that mean for the pack? Is Stiles the alpha female? I thought you were the alpha female? Do you take orders from him now?” Unlike Scott, Jackson had actually listened to Derek after being turned, and did a bit of side research just in case. There were more similarities between werewolves and actual wolves than the phony myths found in _Twilight_.

Lydia fiddled with her phone looking exasperated. “Yes and no. Just because he’s our new human step-mom or whatever doesn’t mean I take orders from him. Do you think just because you’re the omega you have to take orders from Scott and me?”

“No.” Yes. Okay, he took orders from Lydia, but Scott was another story altogether. Lydia had trained Jackson before either of them were turned to follow her orders. He had surprised himself when he’d callously broken up with her last year and he’d had to do some serious groveling to be forgiven for that.

Lydia looked like she knew what he was thinking and smirked at him. “Exactly. Until Stiles is turned, if he ever is, it’s pretty easy to ignore him if I want to, as a 'wolf and as a human. He only has power over us because of Derek. Ergo, I listen to him because I listen to Derek, and don’t want to cause a rift in the pack.”

“You make it sound all so Machiavellian. Stiles isn’t after some bid of power in the pack, he’s probably just horny and Derek is taking advantage of that.”

Lydia rolled her eyes at him. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Jackson kind of had a minor freak out thinking about it anyways. He thought about Stiles; the guy had never been in a real relationship as long as Jackson had known him (not that he’d really cared at the time but Beacon Hills wasn’t a big town so he heard things) and Derek was 23, so he had to have gained experience somewhere. The playing field wasn’t exactly level between them. He watched Dateline and was worried this was a disaster waiting to happen, that one day he’d wake up to see a missing person flier with Stiles’ face on it and the awesome Sheriff Stilinski crying on the news.

“Do you think…” he paused, remembering Derek smiling at Stiles and Jackson as he recounted stories of his past. The memory calmed his apprehensive feelings on the subject. The remembered warm sensation of family Jackson got sitting between them and finally feeling like he was a part of something that satisfied him. Knowing that he was around people who would miss him if anything happened to him, that feeling of abandonment he’d grown up with finally fading for a few hours.

Jackson should have more faith in his pack, and in Derek.

Lydia got tired of waiting for him to finish thinking. She sighed heavily. “Look, I don’t think anyone’s taking advantage of anyone where they don’t want to be taken advantage of, if you get my drift. Stiles and Derek are big boys and as much as everyone worries about Stiles because he’s human, I think he has the ability to cause the most damage here if things go south.”

Jackson blinked. “Huh.” There was a thought. Derek was the alpha werewolf, he had instincts different from humans. Where Stiles could walk away anytime, Derek didn’t really have that choice.

“Yeah, so get out of my face, Allison should be here in five and I don’t want her to get any ideas about the two of us. She’s always talking about going on double dates and I shudder at the idea of spending any more time watching her and Scott make goo-goo eyes at each other than I already do.”

Jackson made a move towards her as if to kiss her but stopped himself, pulling back and just setting a hand lightly on her wrist instead.

“Thanks, for telling me.”

She twisted her wrist and grabbed him, squeezing down tightly.

“Well, it was either that or watching you run around pulling your hair out for the next few weeks. I think you were starting to worry step-Stiles.”

Jackson laughed. “You know this means we have an adopted werewolf family who might be more involved in our lives than our real parents.”

“Shut up, as if you don’t love it. You like being the youngest because Mom and Dad like you best and you know it, you get away with everything.”

Jackson snickered, slipping out her window a lot more gracefully than he’d come in. “Does that mean when we make out we’re committing incest?”

Lydia flipped him off, closing the blinds behind him with a snap.

***

“Oh, you really do smell like Derek… I thought that was just B.O.”

“Oh God, shut up. You’re delirious and you won’t stop bleeding.” Stiles pulled Jackson’s limp body against his front, trying to staunch the blood flowing from his chest with his shirt. Jackson’s head flopped around loosely against Stiles’ shoulder, his fever hot nose brushing against his neck.

“Jackson. Jackson! Stay with me, man.” There was a sharp sting against his cheek.

“Hmm?”

“Come on, everything’s okay. Don’t pass out on me, the others will be here soon and they’ll get pissy with me if I let you die.”

Jackson grumbled but pulled his heavy lidded eyes open. He just wanted to nap for a second, was that too much to ask? The pain in his chest had finally numbed into a steady ache and while his kidneys might not recover from the cattle prod, Derek and the others would be proud of him for keeping Stiles safe. So, really, a bit of shut-eye would be sort of nice here.

“Why do hunters… carry cattle prods, anyway? I’m not a cow,” Jackson grumbled, swiping the back of his wrist against his lips. It came back splattered with blood.

Stiles gave a hysterical giggle. “Man, I don’t even! I think they’re all born in Texas or they get a group discount, either way I’ll ask Derek. He should know, he’s been where you are.”

“Huh. Really?” Jackson’s mushy brain thought that over. “You don’t mean the whole on top of you thing, do you? 'Cause I really don’t want to hear about your sex life the last few minutes I’m alive. I will haunt you.”

Stiles sucked in a lung full of air, his hands pressing down on the bullet wound and making Jackson cringe as pain flared down his spine all the way to his feet.

“How do… oh god, this is so awkward. You’re bleeding out in the mine shaft that some idiot hunters threw us down into with a magical bullet in your chest and you want to talk about me having sex with Derek!?”

“Seriously, haunt you.”

“Okay, okay! Just, Jesus, do we have to talk about this right now?” Was Stiles not hearing correctly, or was Jackson not being clear enough? Maybe he should vomit on Stiles, that would change the subject, he was pretty sure.

“Please, let’s not.” Jackson had trouble breathing, his chest felt heavy, like a large weight sat on top of it spreading out from the bullet wound, pressing down and keeping his ribs from expanding. He curled forward to cough, hoping to dislodge whatever was keeping him from breathing properly.

“No, stop moving. I swear, Jackson, listen to me!” Stiles' slick hand cupped his chin and forced Jackson to look at him, blue eyes meeting brown. He was startled to notice a lone freckle in Stiles’ iris. It was sort of cute.

“You will be okay. I promise, just don’t go to sleep. Scott and Derek will find us, tear the hunters apart, and get a spare bullet so we can find out what’s in it that’s keeping you from healing. We’ve done this before, or at least I have, I don’t know about you, but we can do this. Promise me!”

Rolling his heavy eyes Jackson gave a weak nod.

Stiles sighed, his breath smelling like peppermint. It made Jackson think of Christmas and he wondered what he should buy Danny this year, another lacrosse stick or maybe something more personal?

“You think Danny will like a personalized mug for Christmas?  I saw… they make them downtown at a store where you can put photos or drawings on them. Danny likes coffee.”

Jackson could feel Stiles swallow, the human’s heart fluttering against his ear.

“Yeah,” Stiles said softly. “He’ll love it. You just have to stay alive till Christmas, buddy.”

“God, I hate hunters,” Jackson gritted his teeth as another cough racked his body. He felt pathetic, he was a werewolf and he couldn’t even heal himself from a bullet wound. Scott would have probably already healed himself and climbed out by now.

“Yeah, these guys are assholes.”

“Why can’t I heal?” He had an urge to tear at his chest but Stiles gripped his hands in a steady hold when he tried, chin bumping against Jackson’s forehead as he pulled him closer.

“Shh…” Stiles ran a sticky hand through Jackson's hair. The mine shaft they’d been thrown into was chilly and dark, the cold seeping into everything around them. Jackson was pretty sure they were sitting in a puddle.

A red leaf floated lazily down from the high opening to land on Jackson’s knee. He blinked at it, vision fuzzy around the edges.

Stiles was talking so Jackson tuned back in. “…special bullet, I don’t know. Derek was shot and it was so disgusting, these black veins crawling up his arm and he wanted me to cut it off. I was like, please don’t make me, there’s not enough therapy in the world that will help me get over that. He just writhed around on the floor like something from the exorcist and there was this awkward moment where I wasn’t sure if it was hot or not. The writhing, he was half naked, not the, uh, black throw-up.”

Jackson blinked slowly. His head was throbbing again. “Huh?”

Out of nowhere Lydia landed in a crouch in front of them. It was cool, she looked like a superhero, with her hair and her skin tight jeans and killer spiky heals.

“Stiles, Jackson. Everything okay here?”

“Oh, thank goodness!” Stiles moved out from behind Jackson, laying his head gently against the ground floor. “Please tell me someone has one of the hunters' guns? He’s been shot and can’t heal.”

The last thought Jackson had for a while was that mine shafts smelt horrible. He actually preferred Stiles' scent to this.

***

“You are so enjoying this,” Scott glared down at Jackson from the top of the couch. Jackson was stretched out across the cushions, taking up all the room and forcing everyone else to either stand around or sit on the floor. He had even been given control of the TV remote by Stiles, ensuring that he pissed everyone off by setting it to the History channel (except Derek, who had majored in History, surprisingly, and liked to belittle Ancient Aliens).

“Hmm?” Jackson smirked at the beta around a mouthful of ice cream. It seemed saving Stiles from being kidnapped, getting shot by hunters and almost dying had its perks. Now he knew why Derek was always being a big damn hero and jumping in front of bullets and vehicles; if this was the kind of treatment Stiles gave anyone who saved his life, it was no wonder. Stiles was making sure every one of Jackson’s needs were met, and thus everyone else was forced to help out. Scott had to give up his seat and his hour with the entertainment system, and Lydia was forced to be nice to him. Derek had even smiled at Jackson and thanked him.

“You’re not even wounded anymore, the damage is gone! You’re just milking this for all it’s worth,” Scott threw his hands in the air.

“Scott, leave Jackson alone. He’s still feeling a little weak.” Stile came into the room with a plate full of lasagna and cheesy bread, setting them down on the coffee table in front of Jackson. He gave a weak whimper and clutched at his chest, earning a scowl from Scott and Stiles to swoop down and mother hen him.

“You feeling okay, J? Want me to kick Scott out so you can eat in peace?”

“I’m out of here, anyway,” Scott said in a huff, turning away and mumbling about how he was going to 'tell dad about a certain faker’.

Stiles helped Jackson sit up and fluffed up the pillow behind him. The purple bags under Stiles' eyes made Jackson feel a little guilty about having him waiting around on him hand and foot.

“Derek said you should be healing faster but if you’re not let me know, I can call Dr. Deaton down to have a look at you.”

Jackson fidgeted. Other than a shallow ache where the pellets had lodged in his chest, he felt fine.

“No, I’m feeling a lot better.” Jackson added quickly, “Thanks to you.”

A small relieved smile broke across Stiles’ face.

“That’s good, man. Real good.”

Derek walked into the room looking around until he spotted Stiles crouching beside Jackson. Jackson resisted rolling his eyes, he knew why Derek was all arrogance and nauseating affection these last few hours. The open leer Derek shot Stiles was telling enough and Jackson really did roll his eyes when Stiles blushed under the scrutiny. It took a moment for the two to school their expressions and turn back to Jackson.

“You better yet? The others are saying you’re taking up all of mommy’s attention.”

Stiles glared at the alpha, who looked positively chipper. “Stop calling me mom. I’m a man, you’ve seen my penis, you know this.”

Derek leered. Jackson missed the gloomy and grouchy alpha of old. This new Derek was annoying now that he was aware that the pack knew of his relationship with Stiles.

“Please don’t.” Jackson tried to smother himself with a pillow but Derek tossed it away before he could. He probably liked to revel in his pack's pain, the sadist.

“Get up, you can heal just fine sitting up as you can lying down. I want to practice on my Wii, someone bet me laundry duty that they could beat me at Mass Effect 3.”

Stiles bit his lips, grinning so hard he looked like he might burst. Jackson shot him a look but he shook his head. “Scott,” Stiles answered. “And Derek’s actually killer at ME3 so Scott doesn’t know what he’s getting into.”

Jackson laughed, his chest only giving a slight twinge of pain. He moved over to make room for the others, Stiles making a fort of pillows around him like he was a baby that might fall off the couch without supervision, then took the seat between him and Derek, fretfully checking on Jackson to make sure he wasn’t in pain every minute.

Eventually the others came back to the living room as the sounds of Derek slaughtering monster aliens drowned out Jackson and Stiles’ discussions about Christmas presents. When Danny showed up, anxiously berating Jackson about his life choices, the pack was complete.

Jackson leaned back against the couch cushions, drowsily falling asleep leaning against his best friend with the smell of his pack lulling him into a quiet peace.

He was happy.

***

End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not a gamer so I googled most of it. The wii mario kart thing is based on a true story, I played my friends and I was so awful at it that the game was litterally giving me short cuts because I was so far behind. I remember playing it on 64 though and being totally kick ass, my 8 year old self would be dissapointed in me.
> 
> Debris K, my awesome beta, deserves virgins to be sacrafices to her, but is willing to take praise instead: http://archiveofourown.org/users/Debris_K if you wanna tell her how awesome she is, I encourage it!


End file.
